


A Christmas Exchange

by RedFive



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Fluff, Hannibal is Hannibal, Hannibal is a Cannibal, Hints of Dark!Will, M/M, Shopping au, will is a cop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 02:25:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13137162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedFive/pseuds/RedFive
Summary: It's Christmas Eve and Will Graham finds himself in hell aka Macy's department store searching for a Christmas present for his twin brother. The situation looks bleak until he is rescued by "good" samaritan and personal shopper, Hannibal Lecter.





	A Christmas Exchange

**Author's Note:**

> Happy HannibalHolidays, menage-gay-trois! It was a lot of fun to work Anthony into this story. I hope you enjoy the end result!

**YESTERDAY**

“You always give me money,” Anthony complained at lunch.

Will rolled his eyes sensing another asinine argument looming, their third of the afternoon. “Yeah...well, what choice do I have? You buy everything else the moment you realize you want it.”

Anthony pushed his chair away from the table and placed his hand over his heart feigning shock at his brother’s accusation. “I do not!”

Will pointed at the shopping bags at Anthony’s feet, which were piled up to his knees, and continued eating. He let the evidence speak for itself as any good detective would.

His brother remained in a state of fixed indignation for a good ten seconds before conceding the moral high ground. “Oh fine! But my poor impulse control is no excuse for your laziness! You could at least give me a gift card. There are plenty of options!,” he said and gestured at the mound of designer bags with gold and silver filigree printed on the sides

“To those stores? On a cop’s salary?” Will snorted. “Give me a break. You’ll get that burrito bowl and the standard singing card and that’s it, little brother.” Anthony was the younger brother by only five minutes, but Will still liked to tease him about it.

Anthony sighed with a heaviness that sounded uncharacteristically genuine. “It’s always the same with you: the same christmas present, the same restaurant, the same enchilada platter. Everything is always the same; you never change, Will.”

Will’s grip tightened around his fork. They were the wrong words to say, but Anthony  couldn't have know that. He had taken great pains to hide from Anthony just how much he’d changed. ”That's not true,” he said quietly.  

“Then show me, William Patrick Graham. This year I demand a real present!”

Will slammed his fork down on the table. Their water glasses rocked menacingly but quickly regained their equilibrium. The same could not be said of Will whose face was pale with anger. Anthony was one to talk. He never content unless he was making things difficult. “Be reasonable! You know I work overtime over the holidays. I don't have the time, Anthony.”

“Only because you’re a sad, pathetic loser! Who else is the Chief going to put on your beat while everyone else is home with their families at Christmas?” Anthony laid his napkin over his plate, too angry to continue his meal, and angled his body away from the table.

Will sighed and brushed his hand through his messy curls. He was never going to win this fight. He never won any of their fights; that was the burden of being the "older" brother. “Why are you so--”

“Stubborn?" Anthony cut in. "I don’t know. It must be a family trait, I guess.” Then he shot Will “the look" with those big brown eyes of his and the matter was settled. Of the pair of them, Anthony had always been the conniver, using his angelic face and doe eyes to get exactly what he wanted from their parents and teachers. Will had never been able to compete. His blue-grey eyes were hawkish by comparison and intimidated more than charmed.

"Fine," Will grumbled and picked his fork back up so he could stab at his beans and vent his frustration. 

“You make it sound like such a chore."

Will remained silent.

"We used to be so close,” Anthony pressed. “Don’t you remember? Then you went off to the police academy and it’s never been the same.”

He was mostly right, but it wasn’t the police academy that had changed Will. That had happened later, and his promotion to Homicide had been the turning point. Since then, Will had seen things at crime scenes he worked...and... **_felt_ ** things, things he couldn’t share with his brother or anyone for fear of losing his job or worse. But maybe Anthony was on to something, and Will had put too much distance between them in his effort to protect his brother from that part of his life.

“Well, what do you want?”  Will asked giving in to Anthony’s whimsical request.

Anthony’s sour mood evaporated as swiftly as the first frost of winter and replaced with a look of sincere happy anticipation. “I don’t know. Surprise me! Now, shall we have another round of sangria?”  

**PRESENT DAY**

If there was a tenth level of Dante’s hell, Will bet it resembled Macy's department store at Christmas time. Bodies were packed into the aisle like sardines; shelves were stacked with merchandise high enough to to be a hazard; and everywhere you went, someone was shouting at someone else to move out of the way or calling dibs on the department store’s dwindling supplies of blue light specials.

Will was miserable.

“Move up!” The woman behind him insisted despite there being a line of people ahead of Will on the escalator who were not moving either. When that didn’t work, she shoved him. Will turned around and leveled her with a thousand-yard stare. She piped down after that.

Will’s plan had been to get in and get out, but there was one problem: where did he even start?  He didn't really know his brother anymore. What would he like? What was he expecting? Will had more questions than ideas and only three hours before the store closed to figure it out.

When they were younger, he would buy Anthony blank notebooks for his poetry, but Anthony hadn’t written a lyric since things had ended badly with his last boyfriend, Roman Fell. Will ground his teeth thinking of Roman, a guest lecturer at the university where Anthony taught. Roman had swept Anthony off his feet with sweet wine and silk sheets while never once mentioning the wife he’d left back in England until she showed up on Roman’s doorstep one fine day. Anthony had been heartbroken upon the discovery of his lover’s secret life and on sabbatical from the university ever since. If there weren’t an ocean separating him and Roman Fell right now, Will would have gone to his house and knocked the man’s teeth in or worse for breaking his brother's heart.

Will picked up a gold-plated money clip and turned it over in his hand. In his mind’s eye, he pictured one of Roman’s teeth in place of the synthetic diamond at the center of the money clip. “Might have made a good christmas present,” he chuckled darkly.

“You must be joking,” a heavily accented voice said nearby.

Will looked up unsure why he thought the comment was being directed at him in this crowded store, but perhaps it was because he knew the money clip was a gaudy thing.

A man leaned against the glass counter in a loud plaid suit. He looked like a businessman but one who traded in art rather than stocks. He was gorgeous, but there was an obvious edge about him too that made Will feel uneasy.

Will laid the money clip down. “Yeah. Guess it is pretty tacky.”

An uncomfortable silence followed when the man made no move to leave. He continued to stare at Will, appraising him for some unknown reason.

“Anyway….have a god day,” Will said and tried to step around him, but his forward progress was stopped when the man suddenly grabbed his elbow.

“I’m sorry if this sounds presumptuous, but you look like you are in some distress. Is there anything I might do to unburden you?”

Will stared at his elbow and tried to pull away, but the man’s grip was iron. “I’m fine. Just doing some last minute shopping,” he said not making eye contact.  

“Cutting it close, are you not? It's Christmas Eve.”

Will relaxed his body like he intended to linger and felt the man’s grip slacken. “It’s for my brother. He’s picky,” he offered trying to sound sincere in his intent to be sociable while secretly planning his escape. 

A flicker of emotion passed through the man’s eyes, but it was gone too quickly for Will to identify. “Picky, eh? I know the type.”

 _Yeah, I bet you do,_ Will thought looking at his wine red pocket square and complimentary paisley tie.

“Might I make a suggestion?” the man said.

Will looked at the long line at the nearest checkout counter and then down at his watch. “I don’t think I have--,”

“It might get you out of here sooner,” he suggested and only then did he release Will’s arm. But he did not stop his analysis...

Will watched the man watch him. _He’s curious to see what I’ll do. He’s playing with me for some reason. But why?_ Then Will looked again at the long lines and despaired. Maybe accepting this man's help wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. 

“Your brother will love the gift we select. I promise”

Will remembered something his mother once told him:  _"Be careful of beautiful men who make too many promises.They'll break your heart every time"_ she had warned.  “We? When did this become a group activity? I thought you just had a suggestion."

The man offered his hand. “My name is Hannibal Lecter. I am a personal shopper here at Macy’s, and if you would allow me to, I would love to help you find a present for your dear brother. That is my suggestion.”

“Will,” he said and shook Hannibal’s hand. It was a relief to know that despite appearances, this tall stranger was just an average Joe like him. “Thank you for the kind offer, but I wouldn’t want to impose. Don’t you guys like...make hundreds of dollars an hour doing this sort of thing for Blue Bloods?”

“You are in luck,” Hannibal winked. “I clocked out ten minutes ago.”

Will shook his head and took a step back. “That’s even worse. You should go home and spend time with your family.”

Hannibal took two steps forward moving back into Will’s space. “I have no family, Will. Orphaned as a child, I'm afraid. A terrible thing isn't it? To be alone during the holidays.” He smirked despite the sob story revealing a sharp incisor that Will found strangely becoming on him.

Will swallowed and retreated again but another counter blocked his escape.

With a face as serene as the madonna in the store window, Hannibal stepped forward once more; his intentions were as clear as fresh snow. 

“B-boyfriend?” Will asked.

“Not yet,” Hannibal said with a twinkle in his eye that could not have been more perfectly animated if this had been the film set one of those soapy Christmas movies that aired 24/7 at this time of year.

“Um, I’m not so sure about this, Hannibal. I'm not exactly what you’d call “ _pleasant company_ ," Will warned and looked down at Hannibal’s tie.

“Who told you that?”

“I think my lack of friends speaks for itself.” Will said holding up five fingers and did not mention that half of them were dogs.

“Nonsense. You and I are already friendly. Now, come with me and tell me more about your brother as we walk,” he said offering his elbow like a prince. “Family values may have declined over the last century, but we still help our families when we can. I think it is commendable that you are here searching for the perfect gift for your brother. Most people give money these days.”

Will winced feeling guilty and declined the offered arm by shoving his hands in pockets. He hoped he was not blushing too fiercely, he wasn’t used to being flirted with. If Hannibal took offense, it did not show on his face as he led Will to a row of silk scarves.

"What does your brother look like, Will?”

“A lot like me,” Will said pointing to his own face. “We’re twins.”

“Really?” Hannibal smiled and there was that twinkle in his eyes again. “Identical?”

Will shook his head. “No, fraternal, but we look a lot alike. Same skin tone and hair color although Anthony wears his slicked back and polished.”

“What a pity. Those natural curls are quite fetching on you if you don’t mind my saying.”

Will didn’t mind the compliment until Hannibal reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear. His own hand lashed out and gripped Hannibal’s wrist tight enough to draw a look of pain out of him.

“Oh! I’m sorry!” Will said when he realized what he’d done. He dropped Hannibal’s hand and took a step to his right keeping a full person’s worth of space between them.  “I...ah...like my space. Sorry,” he said again more quietly. _Way to go, Graham. A handsome stranger takes an interest in you and you lash at him like a cornered animal._

Hannibal laid his hand over his heart. “Please, it is I who should make apologize; however, I worry that I shall soon be apologizing again and thus must use my apologies sparingly. I will ask next time to avoid causing you alarm. Do we have a deal?”

Will nodded his head in thanks.

Hannibal began searching the rack of scarves, and hummed to himself while he worked. It was a tune Will did not recognize, but it was far more pleasant that the garish Christmas album playing over the loudspeakers. Will closed his eyes for a moment and focused on the sound of Hannibal’s voice until the ambient noise of the department store faded into the background where it would not bother him or activate that dark part of his heart that wished to be rid of the crowds by any means necessary. When he opened his eyes, Hannibal stood in front of him holding a long, sheer scarf in a pattern of blue and grey swirls that reminded Will of the roiling Atlantic.

“Would you model this for me...since you and your brother are so much alike?” Hannibal said with a pause that betrayed his intent to manipulate Will into modeling the scarf for his own enjoyment.

To refuse would be one rudeness too many after his earlier episode, Will thought as he took the scarf from Hannibal’s hands and looped it around his neck. “How does it look?”

“It matches your eyes perfectly,” Hannibal said and rubbed one end of the scarf between his fingers careful not to touch Will's person.

“Anthony’s eyes are brown,” Will said and kicked himself for not mentioning that earlier.

Hannibal seemed undeterred by the new information or blunt manner by which it was delivered. “That doesn’t change the fact that it looks good on you. We will continue shopping for your brother, but in the meantime, may I?” he asked and gestured at Will’s neck.

Will nodded and held his breath while Hannibal gently removed the scarf and folded it up. He passed it over the counter into the hands of a sales associate. “Would ring this up for me, my dear? Charge it to my account. The name is Lecter.”

“Hannibal, no!” Will protested, but Hannibal shot him a sudden and stern look that silenced him. For just a moment, his gentile manners had fallen away and revealed _...something else._ Will wasn’t sure what it was exactly, but the look had conjured images of dark forests, shallow graves, and all the things that haunted Will in his sleep at night.

Sensing that he was under scrutiny, Hannibal relaxed back into the happy attitude of a mild-mannered salesman. “Worry not, sweet Will. The employee discount here is quite steep. It costs me nothing to make this gift to you, and I will be quite cross if you do not accept. Consider it my payment for services rendered tonight.”

It was clear that Will had no choice but to accept, and so the scarf was wrapped up and placed in a little brown bag. Hannibal pocketed the receipt, which Will was grateful for. Employee discount or not, he was sure the cost of the scarf would make him ill if he knew the full extend of the damage done to Hannibal’s wallet.

It would not be the last time Will heard that line: _payment for services rendered --_ leadingWill to model any number of sweaters and blazers for Hannibal’s pleasure while under the clever guise of Hannibal needing to see what the article of clothing might look like on Anthony. When Will fussed, he doubled down with the good samaritan talk again and appealed to Will’s over-active sense of shame.

Fortunately, Hannibal made no further grand gestures involving his credit card, but neither were they having much success with the mission at hand. With only thirty minutes left before clsoing, the outcome looked grim.

Hannibal and Will strolled down the aisles of china side-by-side when the relative peace of the less populated third floor was shattered by a loud bang and shattering glass. Will’s instincts kicked-in faster than his situational awareness and his hand flew to his side arm.

Hannibal, however, moved just as quickly and covered Will’s hand with his own before he could draw his weapon.  “It was only something falling from a shelf. Happens all the time. Nothing to cause alarm.” He said standing behind Will.

Will relaxed his grip on his gun, and Hannibal seized the opportunity to thread his fingers through Will’s. 

“I apologize,” Hannibal whispered into his ear. “I did not ask permission.”

Will’s heart beat ferociously, but it was not an unwelcome feeling. The adrenaline made him feel light and alive and he enjoyed the feeling of Hannibal's chest pressed against his back. “Don’t,” he said and turned his head towards the sound of Hannibal’s voice. “Don’t apologize.”

“Careful what you wish for,” Hannibal murmured and kissed his cheek.

Will drew a sharp breath, startled and excited by the kiss. On that breath, he caught the taste of sandalwood and honey, and he exhaled contentedly. “Your cologne smells wonderful.”

“Oh? Do you like it?”

Will closed his eyes and breathed it in again. “Yes.”

Hannibal drew back, but he did not release Will’s hand. “That is the first thing you’ve shown an interest in all evening and I must commend you for your excellent taste. The sell it here, you know. Let’s pick some up for your brother. I think it would make a fine gift.”

Will thought that Anthony would be more enamored with the story of how a handsome European stranger swept his sulky older brother off his feet, but Will was willing to settle for just about anything right now if it got him home faster.. “I’d like that.”

Will checked-out and let Hannibal escort him as far as the front door. “This was nice,” he said and hoped Hannibal would pick-up the conversation from there.

“You sound surprised.”

“I don’t like shopping," he confessed, "but I guess that’s why they have guys like you to do it for guys like me."

Hannibal’s face grew sad. “Will, I must tell you something.”

Will braced himself. Conversations that started like that never ended well. “What is it?”

“I lied to you earlier. I'm not a personal shopper. I’m a psychiatrist.”

As far as confessions went, Will supposed things could have been worse. He had expected Hannibal to reveal that he was married like Roman had been. But it shocked him nevertheless. “Why would you lie about that?”

“I saw how you looked at me when we first met and judged that you would more willingly accept help from a helpful employee than a well-dressed stranger.”

Now, Will’s hackles began to rise. He didn’t like being profiled. It professionalized Hannibal’s interest in him to say nothing of the danger it posed to Will’s secret self. “Don't psychoanalyze me. You won't like me when I'm psychoanalysts. I--”

“Let me be the judge of that. I teach a class on psychoanalyzing at John Hopkins,” Hannibal winked trying to recapture the former mood, but Will was stingy with his forgiveness and didn't give it lightly. 

“Well thanks for your help, Dr. Lecter. Hope I didn't keep you from the opera. Have a nice life,” he sneered and turned his back on his would be suitor.

“Wait! Will!” Hannibal said and bounded ahead of Will on his long legs like a deer giving chase to the wolf. “It would be my great honor if you would grant me a second chance. Please, allow me to make it up to you. Come to my house for Christmas dinner.”

Will eyed him with suspicion. “Why?” He said forcefully.

“I am quite taken with you. Perhaps it is the time of year that makes us overly sentimental, but I was very impressed by your coming here in person to buy your brother a gift. I lost my sister at a very young age, you see, and it  was nice to meet someone who appreciates the proper value of family. Can you forgive me?

Will thought about his reasons for being here today and realized he’d been as dishonest as Hannibal. “Shall I consider it payment for services rendered?”

“If it that makes it easier. Although I must warn you, my hourly rate is quite high.” Hannibal smirked. 

“Well I can't,” he snapped. “I'm a cop, and I work Christmas Day.”

Hannibal’s face fell, until Will leaned in and kissed his cheek. “But I'm free the day after although I should warn you, I don't like pork.”

Hannibal’s laughter was short and sharp, like the bark of a fox giving chase to the rabbit. “Oh, Will, I promise I'll **_never_** serve you pork."

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed this fic, please help boost the signal on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Red5WritingBy/status/945740234406363137) and [Tumblr](http://redfivewritingby.tumblr.com/post/168945034712/a-christmas-exchange-by-redfive). Thanks a bunch!


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